


Rabbit Teeth

by Roses_and_Cream



Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Comfort Food, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Kim Namjoon | RM/Kim Seokjin | Jin, Family Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hospitalization, Hurt/Comfort, Jeon Jungkook Is Bad at Feelings, Jeon Jungkook is a Little Shit, Jeon Jungkook-centric, Jung Hoseok | J-Hope Is a Good Hyung, Kim Namjoon | RM Is So Done, Kim Seokjin | Jin Is a Good Hyung, Kim Seokjin | Jin is So Done, Kim Taehyung | V & Park Jimin Are Best Friends, Kim Taehyung | V Is a Sweetheart, Min Yoongi | Suga Is a Good Hyung, Min Yoongi | Suga Is a Little Shit, Muteness, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Bangtan Boys, Protective Hyungs, Psychological Trauma, Shy Jeon Jungkook, Sick Jeon Jungkook, Sickfic, Sign Language, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-04 23:16:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17313707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roses_and_Cream/pseuds/Roses_and_Cream
Summary: Jeon Jeongguk is fifteen, and he's fallen into the trap of feeling invincible, something all of his health teachers in past years had blabbed about.He's a rookie idol with everything he's dreamed of, and he hasn't even grown his first chest hair.Then, his brother died; and so did a part of Jeongguk.No longer having the strength to speak, Jeongguk must learn that the only person that can truly fix himself is himself, and he can't rely on his Hyungs to pick up the pieces, because he's breaking them too.





	1. The Rattling Mice

     It's half past one in the morning, and once again, the sounds of bustling mice stirred Kim Seokjin from his sleep. The sounds of scampering, of immature sounds rattling around in their cereal boxes had become all too domestic since the beginning of the week. His eyelids had begun to droop, a burnout attempting to consume him and force him back into the womb of his blankets. But the neon lights of his clock tell him to get up, to force his body from slumber and get rid of the critters invading their kitchen.

 

     Lord, have mercy on Kim Seokjin, who tonight was a slave over the rodent's whistling in the kitchen that he worked so diligently to keep clean. Lord, become easy on his hands that clean up after the younger members on their bad days, and his hands that rub their backs with tears oozed down their cheeks. So why, with all of our prayers, was he stumbling out to the kitchen so late at night?

 

     It was the mice, those fiends, the  _repulsive_ creatures that dare step foot in the cabinets. With all of their salaries combined, it could still be an ample task to feed seven school aged boys. Seven boys, who were all admirably active and knew the watering tastes of their mother's cooking more than his own. Simply, Seokjin did not have the patience, or the compassion, to tolerate a rodent that lay it's grimy paws that fed them at breakfast. He had never planned on becoming so protective, but he was the oldest, and sometimes protection became an obligation more than an option. Now, he was twenty, turning twenty one, and the youngest was hardly fifteen; Kim Seokjin would be earnest, passionate, and thoughtful eldest brother God needed him to be.

 

     Eight nights in total is what it took for Seokjin to finally investigate the sounds in the kitchen, and through the darkness, he slid through the hallways with a broom as a baseball bat. In his stupor, anger caught in his throat when he finally arrived in the kitchen to hear the dreaded munching. He flicked the lights on, expecting to see a scene from Ratatouille laid out infront of him. Every cell in his body ached, wishing to release the anger upon the rodents who just wanted to cook up their recipe inside of the pantry. Though, the lights revealed not a single mouse, rat, or tiny chefs; only his maknae.

 

     His maknae, who sat doubled over at the table, sobbing into a box of cereal that he brandished like it was the sword in the stone. His maknae, who froze up as If a string had been pulled through his spine, his body realizing even before his mind that somebody else was in his room. Lord, have mercy on Seokjin's heart as the anguish of his own one in the morning ignorance struck him. Lord, be gentle with his hands that so lightly took the baron cereal box out of Jeongguk's grasp.

 

Please, Lord, he thought; _Have an extra prayer for Jeongguk._

 

     No matter how many prayers Seokjin committed, and he wasn't a very religious man, it seemed that the nightly folding of his hands and mumbling pleas with God was not enough to relieve the youngest of his crusted, mangled soul. He watched Jeongguk every day from afar, and occasionally up close, his mind backlogged and trapped on October first; /the day when it happened./

 

     That day, must they struggle to mention it, was the day the world turned inside out, and it couldn't fold back again. The day Kim Seokjin, and five others, received news from Jeongguk's parents that the mankae's brother had passed away, and he would be in town for longer than expected for the funeral. On the fifth, Jeongguk returned to them, merely a newborn crow amongst several white doves. The flight of all of the sky's birds ceased, and butterflies forever halted their migrations for the fifteen year old who had suddenly lost the willingness to speak.

 

     None of them had heard Jeon Jeongguk's beautiful, hay meadow voice since that day.

 

     To snap back to reality, Seokjin previously believed that eating for comfort was not an issue; it was common. His memories of being upset as a child consisted of his mother, placing a hand on his shoulder and offering him a dish of strawberries. To this day, it was something he indulged in with his days had fallen down. He would sit on the couch, munching on strawberries and sipping away at a cup of hot chocolate. The snack, so sweet and delicate, distracted his trembling lips from the tears until he was calm. He could assume that Jeongguk shared similar memories, but it still panged him with worry.

 

     It made his vocal chords shake, seeing his maknae with Poptart boxes, bowls of cereal, and a half empty glass of milk with a swirly straw. His heart became bruised, hearing the sobs and gags that came from eating so much. The scene, so brutally laid out infront of him, after eight nights of Jeongguk doing this, plucked at his ribcage. It made sense now, why the boy's cheeks had begun to puff, and Seokjin refused to look down any further to his stomach that pressed painfully swollen against his pajamas.

 

     The last thing Seokjin wanted Jeongguk to feel was shame. Guilt, embarrassment, anything like that; the youngest didn't need it on his shoulders right now. While it wasn't healthy, Seokjin wasn't as concerned with the boy's body as he was concerned about the thoughts that ran through his little head. Jeongguk needed nothing more on his fragile heart, because right now, it had already shattered into thousands of unattainable pieces. All the eldest could do, and what he did that night, was gracefully pry Jeongguk away from his binge and set him on the couch.

 

     Just as his mother had done, he replaced the youngest's wiling with a dish of strawberries and a cup of water. He kept Jeongguk close to him, hands placing gentle ministrations on his side and the swell of his stomach. Once in a blue moon, one hand would travel up to wipe his cheeks. There was nothing Seokjin focused on, other than the munch-munch-munching of Jeongguk's rabbit teeth on the pinkish strawberries. By the looks of them, they hadn't been brushed in days, though Seokjin thought he should save it for now.

 

     Tomorrow morning, he promised himself to help Jeongguk brush his teeth.

 

 

 

 

     It's half past seven in the morning, and once again, the sounds of rattling pushed Min Yoongi from his sleep. The sounds of hiccuping, forced whimpers and hands that begged to break the childproof seal on the bottle of Tylenol in his nightstand. He knew the sound better than most, no stranger to headaches due to his habit of poor hydration.

 

     Though, nobody in this household was unfamiliar to aches and pains. Yoongi's personally, his knees, were comparable to the tin man's joints. He was considering acupuncture at this point, though he had been told far too many times that stretching would get the job done. If only he had the motivation, because temporarily solutions worked easily; quickly. The temporarily solution of two pills, a heating pad, and a good night's rest to set his body up again for another day of dancing.

 

     Theses aches and pains were exactly why the rapper knew how many pills he had at all times, where they were, and what bottle size was allowed on airplanes. Between his knees and headaches, he popped four to six a day, which definitely couldn't be good for whatever bodily system broke the chemicals down. Some days, every once in awhile, one of the members approached him for the 'magic beans', as they joked. Nothing was special in the Tylenol, and Yoongi didn't even know why they worked so well. He would hand over two, remind the younger to eat crackers before and swallow with water.

 

     Which is, once again, _exactly_  why, and how, Yoongi knew his Tylenol was going missing without his initial knowledge. The first and second time, it did nothing more than raise an eyebrow on his puffy face. Sometimes, the last thing a young man wanted when he felt unwell was attention, so he let it slide. Worry was something the rapper did in private, and he certainly wasn't worrying.

 

     Then, it _kept_ happening.

 

     Yoongi's first mistake was initially becoming irritated, knowing another large bottle would put a dent in his bank account that he loathed creating. Easily, he could have just brought it up during dinner and scanned for guilty faces among his six bandmates; but he didn’t. He would catch the culprit in the act, and then in a James Bond style, wrap them up in duct tape and send them to sit in the corner to feign punishment. They would laugh, and he would ask them to get their own bottle- no biggie.

 

     It took ten mornings for Yoongi to finally crack his eyes open because of the rattling, and they immediately snapped to the nightstand drawer. Within the bottle of pills were chubby, grabby fingers that fished around inside the bottle. At first, a coo became caught up inside of his throat. It reminded him of a child reaching into a cookie jar without their parent's permission, and he felt the anger diminish into a bundle of fondness at whoever was trying not to get caught. When he stepped away from his delusion, his sleepy ears picked up the crying noises that belonged to those same, chubby little fingers.

 

     Hesitantly, Yoongi's eyes drifted up to see the face attached to the fingers, and his heart clenched inside of his bony chest. Jeongguk, attempting to silence his wails, full moon cheeks puffed out to contain the sound. The sheer disgust, the  _agony_ in the maknae's eyes replaced his own fondness with a suddenly booming worry.

 

     What was hurting? Had Jeongguk gotten sick? Was he having a migraine?

 

     Then, Yoongi's eyes moved to the painfully large, trembling swell of the boy's stomach and the hand wrapped around it, clenching and digging into the pale skin underneath his pajamas; and Yoongi's heart broke again. Based on the supply, this had been happening for awhile. He wasn't ignorant to Jeongguk's binging, but he figured, if he wanted to talk about it; he would.  
  
     Though, he knew Jeongguk wasn't going to talk.

 

     "Bub," The rapper whispered, his voice blanketed with sleep. "Can you tell Hyungie how you're feeling?" He had always been gentle with Jeongguk, especially when he was upset. He figured that asking if he was alright directly wasn't a good idea, and he knew the maknae would shy away.

 

     The reaction was expected, but somehow made Yoongi want to sob with the strength of a roaring sea. How the bottle clattered to the floor, white capsules embedding themselves within the plush carpet and his eyes dropping into teary orbs. Though, before Jeongguk could run away, the rapper gently pulled him over onto the bed. His hands, vein drenched and large, cocooned the crying teenager into one of his blankets before he joined him, gently wiping his cheeks.

 

     "I know, bub. I know your stomach must hurt, huh?" Yoongi cooed. Something else he knew, that often the best comfort wasn't a 'cheer up!', it was an acknowledgement that somebody else is in pain, and that what's happening truly sucks.  "Go back to sleep, I'll be here." He was there, to stroke Jeongguk's hair and hum until he could see his bambi eyes fall shut. He was there to watch a set of rabbit teeth detach from his lower lip, his delicate lips parting with soft snores.

 

     It was too early for this, Yoongi thought; and he knew Jeongguk was fragile nowadays. For now, he'd save it. Tomorrow morning, he promised himself to as the manager to make Jeongguk a doctor's appointment. Clearly, something was bothering his stomach.


	2. Connecting The Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pure, tooth rotting sweetness with Hoseok and Namjoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am overwhelmed by the positive response to the first chapter, thank you very much! I apologize that Hoseok's point of view is much shorter than the others, but I feel like the short anecdote was alright the way it was.

Red lights, maroon birds, and fuchsia confetti colored the trees that Namjoon witnessed as he walked, each step making the sleeves of his sweater bob up, down, and up again. For him, walking was a speechless therapy, one that could take the weight of being a leader off his aching back. Recently, that weight had doubled due to the maknae's return to their dorms after his visit home. Always, in the back of his mind, he could clearly hear the hiccupping cries of a distressed teenager. 

Once upon a time, he had never heard Jeongguk crying, only once or twice. He never saw Jeongguk sick with anything other than colds, and he was always the most bubbly when even Hoseok was down. Now, even the warm toned trees around him couldn't quite alleviate the mourning he had for the loss of his youngest's heart. It had been tossed into the abyss, leaving a gaping hole in his chest where the vital organ should be.

Namjoon could feel a similar hole being burned into his own chest, creeping and slowly eroding the tissue. The click of a stone sidewalk underneath his feet meant nothing, the watercolored night sky, and the smell of street food hardly reached him. Among thousands of shimmering, nearly blinding stars, there was only one that his mind registered. The star, as he looked down to see it; a set of pale, chubby fingers holding onto his own. 

Those fingers, while mailable and warm, had never seemed so delicate to the leader. Perhaps, it was because he knew Jeongguk had finally reached a calm. He studied his features, the constantly sleepy expression on his face, and the rabbit teeth that poked at a cone of strawberry ice cream. They had started walking just under an hour ago, and the ice cream had begun to melt, yet Jeongguk sparkled more than the stars above him. Namjoon could see for once, a sense of clarity appearing before him as he eyed the youngest member with his ice cream.

A child. Inside Jeongguk's eyes, his face, and his heart; he saw a child. The boy was beaming with light, bouncing from star to star. He wore a paper hat, brandished a bendy straw sword, and declared at the top of his little lungs that he would love to take a nap on the moon. His vision shifted up to the planet, and for a split second, the leader swore he saw Jeongguk curled up within one of the craters. 

He would give Jeongguk all of the ice cream in the world, if it made him this peaceful again.   
Sleepy, as a newborn bunny world be, with sparkling eyes and pink cream dotted on the tip of his larger nose. It was picture perfect to Namjoon, causing his heart to twitch within his now filling chest. 

"Baby, you look tired." One of his hands came up to run through Jeongguk's hair, causing the younger to look up, his expression still gleaming with nightly dew. "Or are you just thinking?"

He should have expected the lack of response, verbally at least, because the nod at his second statement put a hole in his heart once again.

"You're missing him, I know." The leader allowed a dimpled smile to crawl up his face and he sat Jeongguk on a bench, crouching down infront of him as a father would. "You might not believe it, but missing your brother is good. It lets me know how much you love him, and how much he loves you- do you see that?" He pointed to the moon, then pretended to cup it within his hands. "He's right up there, you can say hello whenever you'd like."

The sun must set every day, so that the moon may say 'Hello'. Namjoon wished there was a song, a voice, or a word that might comfort his youngest, though he knew it simply was not the case. Instead, all he could offer was a hand, and a walk in the night when the streets were empty. 

As he watched Jeongguk slowly raise a hand and wave, his eyes focused on the cheese wheel in the sky, and his dimples returned again. 

Tomorrow, he promised himself he would take the maknae stargazing. 

 

It echoed against the bedroom walls, the sound of the maknae's gentle hums as Hoseok brushed through his messy, ink colored hair. The hair was like fabric, silk or coconut butter within his dry hands. He listened to the hums, resonating within Jeongguk's lips and buzzing his teeth; This Is Home, by Cavetown. It was hardly familiar to Hoseok, but he enjoyed the tune nonetheless. 

These days, he felt himself becoming closer to the silent teenager who adored sweets and sugary drinks. With the same love, the dancer adored his chubby, pinchable cheeks and sparkly eyes whenever he offered to brush his hair. It was like having a cat, almost.

While Jeongguk hummed, he drew on the window with an expo marker, connecting the dots between the moon's craters and the stars surrounding them. There was no picture, only a jumbled mess of mythical constellations that he occasionally made smiley faces out of. A gentle 'pop' of another marker opening caught his attention, and he looked over to Hoseok, who was drawing a cat atop one of the constellations. 

A kitten, with fluffy felt ears and a full belly, playing with a star as if it were a light hanging from a Christmas tree. Underneath it, the dancer wrote, 'Jeonggukie' with a heart after it, and the sparkles lit up the boy's eyes once again.

From the depths of the night sky, a strawberry cream, rabbit tooth smile pulled at Jeongguk's face and he drew a puppy next to the cat, with a heart nose and goofy expression. Underneath it, just as the dancer expected, was written 'Hoseokie'.

A similar smile blossomed on Hoseok's face as a yawn bellowed from the maknae's mouth, watching as he put his finger underneath his nose. "Bedtime, Jeonggukie?" He asked, pulling the younger into his arms. When he saw the small nod, Hoseok placed an obnoxiously wet kiss on his forehead, prompting a whine and a bubbly giggle. 

With the grace of a mother goose, he tucked Jeongguk in and crawled next to him, smiling as he felt a head plop onto his chest. Again, he carded his fingers through his hair until he heard soft, sweet snores filling the room in place of the tune to 'This Is Home'. 

Tomorrow, he promised himself that he'd listen to that song on repeat.


End file.
